Awkward Transitions: A Spring of Hope for Outdoor Therapy

2025 Wilderness Therapy Symposium with (from left) Will White, me, Rob Meltzer, and Justin Swenson.

Since returning from this year’s Wilderness Therapy Symposium, I’ve been sitting with a single word: awkward. When I mentioned this to a couple of colleagues, they nodded in understanding.

And yet—awkward is a marked improvement from the last symposium. That one reminded me of the numb limbo after my grandfather’s heart attack, when the doctor at the hospital said, “He could have many more years, or he could go at any time.” It wasn’t time to mourn, but it certainly wasn’t time to celebrate. The end, in some form, was coming.

By contrast, awkwardness is filled with possibility. It’s like springtime—sunny and warm one day, snowing and cold the next. The instability makes you want to yell, “Make up your mind!”

Emerging from a Long Winter

We’re emerging from the winter of wilderness therapy—a season marked by the closure of many traditional, immersive programs. These programs saved countless lives, but a wave of criticism and vilification overtook the narrative. Stories of alleged abuse and neglect painted them as predatory, even as enrollment rightly surged during the pandemic and outdoor programs thrived amidst a global mental health crisis.

At the same time, cultural shifts were unfolding. Marginalized voices rightly began to speak out. Institutional mistrust deepened. A social movement took hold that often demanded binary roles: victim or perpetrator. Even those who felt helped by these programs were pulled into a narrative that left no room for anything but victimhood.

And another movement was afoot. Parents becoming overprotective. Over-connected. Intent on making sure their children always felt safe and nurtured. Parents believing the world was dangerous. Distrusting authority. Discounting the role adversity plays in building character. A society increasingly convinced that struggling children need only comfort and sympathy.

We’ve Been Here Before

The field has weathered storms before. In the 1990s, wilderness therapy was also under fire—confused with harsh, boot camp-style programs. In response, a group of reputable, clinically driven programs formed the Outdoor Behavioral Healthcare Industry Council. Their strategy to differentiate? Show the data. They rigorously studied their outcomes and safety, and it worked. By the late '90s, states began regulating the field, media coverage shifted, and the worst actors were forced out.

Post-Factual World, Primitive Fears

Today, facts alone aren’t enough. We live in a post-factual world shaped by social media, where fear outshouts reason. Wilderness is often framed as a sacred sanctuary or savage threat. The latter gets headlines: bear attacks, unsolved crimes, dark Netflix thrillers. These stories prey on our primitive brain. Similarly, narratives of vulnerable youth harmed in treatment settings make for compelling but distorted stories—even though they’re the exception.

Time for a New Story

At a recent gathering in Durango, I sat with a group reflecting on our need for new myths—new stories that match what we now know about the world and ourselves. Wilderness therapy needs that too.

We need a story that meets this moment—one steeped in cultural skepticism, but still hungry for healing. A story that honors past harms, casts out true villains, and invites clients to become the heroes of their lives. And we, as practitioners, must become the guides these heroes need. Guides who listen, lead with dignity, who see suffering clearly, and who know the way out.

The Evidence Is In: Nature Heals

We know this intuitively, and now the science is catching up. New research from Dr. Marc Berman at the University of Chicago underscores the healing power of nature.

A 50-minute walk in nature boosts memory and attention by 20%. Regular exposure reduces anxiety and depression. Nature supports heart and immune health—especially in children—and encourages kindness and connection.

In a nation with rising healthcare costs, nature remains one of the most accessible, impactful interventions we have.

Signs of a New Season

Despite the awkwardness in the symposium hall, I sensed something shifting. Long-time fixtures in the field were absent. The energy was different—quieter, less energetic, with less patchouli oil and musky odor, and fewer Chacos.

But there was also hope. Like spring sun breaking through winter clouds.

While expedition-style programs may be in decline, new models are blooming. Therapists are taking sessions outdoors. Community-based programs are weaving nature into their approach. It may look different, but it’s rooted in the same healing soil.

Essential Modality — and It’s Free

Just as family involvement became essential in the early 2000s, so too should time in nature. It’s not a bonus. It’s fundamental. And unlike many treatment components, nature is free.

Doctors are starting to prescribe it. Therapists are integrating it. The tide is turning.

Time for a Broader Definition

A look at the NATSAP website shows that of 52 RTCs, 38 list outdoor or wilderness components as part of their approach (based on my research).

As a seasoned colleague recently said, “If a program believes that time in nature is a vital agent of change, it’s practicing outdoor behavioral healthcare.” That belief is clearly taking but it should be 52 out of 52.

A New Chapter Begins

Two documentary films are underway, telling new stories—stories of healing, of lives transformed, of guides who walked alongside those in pain.

Programs in places like Durango and Asheville are pioneering community-centered models where they are replacing the therapy couch with the outdoors. Existing programs are evolving. Outpatient and veterans programs are going outside. A new chapter is beginning.

Committed to the Evolution

I remain all in. I’m inspired by what’s possible. More therapists are walking and talking with clients outside. More communities are investing in outdoor access. The field is changing—and I’m here for it. I am committed to bringing my 30 years in this work to those new to it.

Get Clients Outside: A Therapeutic Necessity

I was shocked to see that some RTCs don’t use the outdoors at all. That must change.

If you’re ready to begin or refine your approach, I’m here to help. Let’s get your clients outside. Let’s equip your staff to feel confident and safe. Let’s build programs that are not only effective, but life-giving.

Because the truth is: nature heals.

And we need more of that right now.